


Impala

by Floranna



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Gen, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floranna/pseuds/Floranna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Impala wouldn't move fast enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impala

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geminigrl11](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=geminigrl11).



Impala had always been loyal and full of memories. Some bad, some worse, some good, some even better. This memory he would want to be erased from her by the strongest bleach and holy water. The blood would be almost impossible to wash away from the leather. She wouldn’t move fast enough.

Dean moaned quietly from the backseat and he drove even faster. There was a hospital close, he had seen it before. Checking closest hospitals had become a habit of his, in case of a injury which few stitches and his impressive collection of curses couldn’t fix. Impala wouldn’t move fast enough.

Sam was being quiet. Almost too quiet. He turned quickly to check him while driving. Sam was breathing, that was good, but the gaze in his eyes was a bit glazed and he was pale in a way that wasn’t at all comfortable to his nerves. Impala wouldn’t move fast enough.

He could see the hospital now. Time was flowing even slower now, if possible, but finally he stopped from the near full speed at the hospital’s front door, jumped out of the car and shouted to the male nurse who was smoking to help. Quickly there were doctors and nurses getting Sam and Dean to the pars. There were too many questions to completely register all of them, but some dragged themselves through the haze he was in. His name? John Winchester. The kids? My sons, Sam and Dean. What happened? Left them at the motel, when came back, found a man torturing them. I attacked him, managed to chase him away. Drove to the hospital straight away. No, it didn’t come to my mind to call the police.

There are a lot he doesn’t say. How the man was holding his face, talking with his voice and talking about his memories. The look of relief when he came in on Dean’s face, the relief of being saved and the certainty that the person hurting you isn’t your father at all. The feeling of hitting the one, not even thinking of silver bullets or knives coated with silver. Now only filled with rage, until it jumps out from the window and you start to chase him, only to remember your boys. Realizing how hurt they are, how they can still die from their injuries. The fear of hurting them more by putting them to a car, and the fear that ambulance would take too long to reach them.

Where are my kids? We took them to the surgery. How are they? They are both critical. How critical? We’ll all just have to wait. There are police officers wanting to ask few questions, do you feel ready for it? Let’s just get it over with.

He knew how to handle the police and they left, promising to do everything they could to find the person who attacked his children. He knew they wouldn’t be able to find it, he hadn’t managed to kill it and it had probably run away from the city already. He had screwed up. The shapeshifter was alive and his sons were hurt. He hadn’t been able to change anything.

On Dean three stab wounds, done probably by an ice pike. One to a lung, one to a stomach and one to a chest, narrowly missing the heart. Sam, a broken skull, two broken ribs and internal bleeding caused by a blunt object which hit his stomach. Lucky that they survived the drive. Impala almost hadn’t been fast enough.

Doctor from Sam’s surgery came first. He is stable, but any permanent damage done by the skull fracture will be seen only after he wakes up, but it’s highly unlikely for him to have some. He is sleeping, but he can go to his room. Sam was too pale and surrounded by machines, but he was breathing on his own. He sat on the chair next to the bed and lowered his head to his hands.

Dean’s lasts longer. When the doctor came, she said he should make a full recovery. They are going to put boys on the same room too later.

He waits few hours to call pastor Jim and informing what has happened, especially about the shapeshifter who got away. He promises to come, and offers to talk to some other hunters at nearby to look for it. He agrees to it readily.

His heart is still beating a touch too fast and his stomach is rolling. The feeling is the same he had when he was in the car driving here. The terror is as engulfing as when Mary died, but now he knows the motions, knows how to keep himself together for a little while longer. He has to, for them. They need him as much as he needs them. He would have nothing left to live if his sons were dead.

Jim arrives next morning. Drove straight to the hospital and smells like it too. John cannot muster up some wit to joke about it. Jim sits next to him and asks questions about what happened. Seems relieved when hears how boys are. Talks something that they are too tough to be put down because of a some lousy shapeshifter. John laughs a bit, he cannot keep it in. The tight feeling in his gut is finally starting to unravel. Jim has had the gift of calming him every time he has needed it. Brings coffee from the automat, too. That helps a ton.

His sons are alive. He must remember that. They will stay alive as long as he has something to say for it. He won’t give them up. He won’t give up on them. The creature which killed Mary would run free for all he cares, but his sons are more important. And that Impala is always fast enough.

When boys get away from the hospital, he has found a new hunt in Illinois. Dozens of ghosts in a one small town and several deaths. Boys are healed enough to travel and hold a flashlight.


End file.
